The Comics We're Thankful For This Year

Thanksgiving is the time for reflecting on the things in our lives that we're grateful for. Family, friends, significant others, pets, all of that good stuff. But if you're reading this site, chances are you've got something else in your life that you couldn't live without: comics. I got the IGN Comics review crew together before they went to go stuff their faces full of turkey and beer and football to sound off on the comics they're most thankful for this year.

And, of course, please sound off in the comments with the comics that you're most thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving!

"Thank you, Local." - Joey Esposito

Not to bring this whole shebang down before we get rolling, but 2012 wasn't my best year. In fact, it was a pretty rough year for me personally. As such, I found myself fawning over many of my favorite comic books that I've grown to love, looking to make sense of things. But one in particular I've gone back to time and again in the last year: Local, by Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly.

Published by Oni Press, it's a collection of stand-alone vignettes that ultimately form a larger slice-of-life portrait of one young woman named Megan. The beauty of the series is that any chapter can be enjoyed completely on its own, but if you read it sequentially it tells the story of Megan's search for her place in the world. Really, it's a coming-of-age kind of tale, but told in a way that only comics can do. Heap onto to that the stunning black-and-white art of Ryan Kelly, and you've got one of the best comics of the last ten years.

Local is life-affirming in a way that I'll never get from superhero comics. I love superheroes as much as the next guy, but seeing your every day concerns and troubles brought to life in a comic book with such sincerity and emotion, relating to it, and then realizing it helped you deal with your own issues is just fantastic. I go to superheroes for escape, but it's comics like Local that helps me confront real life head-on.

"Thank you, Saga." - Erik Norris

There are a ton of comics to be thankful for this year; maybe too many to just rattle off here. But the one I’m most thankful for is the title that brought Brian K. Vaughan back to funny books – Saga.

Vaughan is responsible for two of my all-time favorite comic stories – Y: The Last Man and Ex Machina. He’s also done some truly outstanding superhero work, like with Doctor Strange: The Oath. So when Vaughan packed his bags and set out on new adventures a few years ago – even landing at FOX to be a writer on the show Lost – I, mind the pun, lost it. I fully understand that the man can do whatever he wants – it’s his life after all – but I was still crushed. Brian K. Vaughan is just one of those voices in comics that is so rare; someone that can have you rolling on the ground from laughter one minute and then ripping out your heart and yelling “Kali Ma” the next.

But now the prodigal son has returned to comics, Image Comics specifically, to tell the story of two star-crossed lovers trying to protect their child amidst a galactic war. Talk about walking into the room, setting off a few firecrackers to announce your arrival, and then proceeding to make everyone else look bad. Saga is entirely new territory for BKV, yet still retains the signature elements that make Vaughan’s writing his own.

Oh, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Fiona Staples’ fantastic artwork. Saga, from its first page, has been a mesmerizing tour-de-force. The characters are vibrant, the world is artistically limitless, and, maybe most importantly, Staples somehow manages to keep in lockstep with Vaughan’s insane imagination. I hate to use the word, but screw it -- this is synergy at its finest.

So to wrap up, thank you Saga for being around and showing me what a disease-infested ogre dong would look like.

"Thank you, Astonishing X-Men." - Joshua Yehl

I am thankful for all comics. I really am. Even the ones without Doop! And while I am also thankful for the horror of Locke and Key, the sexploitation of Saga, and the Hawk-blocking of Hawkeye, there’s one kind of comic that I am most thankful for: ones that are about me.

I know that being thankful is usually a selfless thing that prompts thoughts of family and friends and all that stuff, but comics are a solo experience no matter which way you snikt it, so my favorites are the ones that reflect who I am. As a guy with Middle Eastern heritage whose favorite hero is Green Lantern, you might be expecting me to say I’m most thankful for Geoff Johns' Green Lantern book for introducing Simon Baz, but you’d be, as Kevin Spacey’s Lex Luthor would say, “WRONG!” Although, that’s probably second on my list so I’m sorry for shouting.

No, the comic I’m most thankful for is none other than Astonishing X-Men by Marjorie Liu and Mike Perkins, which this year featured the proposal and marriage between Northstar and his longtime boyfriend Kyle. Comics are often centered around larger than life conflicts -- like battles with cosmic birds or just people dressed up as birds -- so I was thrilled to see one of the biggest moments of the year go to a celebration of love. And yes, this particular event represents me personally because I am -- you guessed it -- a mutant.

"Thank you, Journey Into Mystery." - Jesse Schedeen

As I write this we're entering the third straight week of Marvel NOW! releases. And while that's all new and exciting and what have you, the story I'm feeling most thankful for just wrapped up last month. I'm referring to Kieron Gillen's Journey Into Mystery run.

I'll admit to rolling my eyes a bit early in 2011 when this series was announced. Did we really need two ongoing Thor books just because a movie was coming out? If Marvel can't support two ongoing Iron Man books simultaneously, how was Journey Into Mystery going to survive in such a fickle market?

Clearly I should have given Kieron Gillen more credit. In a time where Marvel so rarely seems to publish anything not focused on the X-Men or the Avengers, Journey Into Mystery was a huge breath of fresh air. It had high fantasy and goofy, self-aware humor. It had foul-mouthed demon dogs and battles for the fate of the entire universe. It was distinctly different from anything else Marvel was publishing.

Ultimately, the appeal of Journey Into Mystery was that it explored Loki in a vastly different light, showcasing a god of chaos who knew that the only way to be true to himself was to change. And for a while, Loki was able to become something much better and more noble than he had ever been.

I'm thankful that I was able to spend the better part of two years reading what I consider to be the best Thor run since the days of Walt Simonson. I'm thankful Gillen was able to tell the story how he wanted to and end his run on his own terms. I'm thankful the book managed to survive the whole way rather than falling to the same fate as so many other promising but under-appreciated titles. I'm thankful the series proved that Marvel can still dabble in other genres besides straightforward superheroics. And I'm thankful that Gillen's tenure with Loki isn't done yet.

"Thank you, Deadpool #16." - Poet Mase

I am thankful for Deadpool #16. It wasn’t my first comic book ever. It’s not the most expensive comic book I own. It is, however, what finally hooked me on comics for good.

See, I was walking through B. Dalton Booksellers in the mall, pretending to be erudite so the college girls in the next aisle would be impressed. Then their (large) boyfriends showed up. Suddenly bereft of prospects, I was at a total loss for what to do with myself – until I spotted a spinner rack of comics. I hadn’t read a comic in years, and I wasn’t particularly interested in putting in the time or money to penetrate decades of continuity. Still, I had a couple of bucks, and I thought it might be fun to find a little niche comic that was a little more forgiving for a regular dude like me. So, after a brief perusal, I settled on Deadpool #16 and embarked on a comic book journey that has yet to end.

I can’t even begin to describe the quality of Joe Kelly’s dialog in the issue and on the character in general. I still literally laugh out loud when I read this comic. At the same time, though, there is some seriously nuanced storytelling in the book’s undertones – storytelling that powered the title for years to come and provided that crucial, accessible substance for me as a casual reader. It’s nearly 15 years later, and I still can’t think of piñatas, marsupials, or comics the same way again. For that - and comics like Saga that continue that tradition - I’m thankful.

"Thank you, Rocketeer." - Benjamin Bailey

There was a time in my life when every comic book I read was a bleak and violent affair. They felt more mature and a million miles away from silly costumed heroes who fought endless battles against evil. I thought, foolishly, that reading these books made me more grown up, that they made me above the traditional comic book reader. I stopped collecting superhero books and only bought "graphic novels." I was kind of a dick.

All that changed when I discovered Dave Stevens' Rocketeer. The fun, heartfelt adventures of Cliff Secord reminded me why I fell in love with the comic book medium in the first place. There was romance, action and the coolest looking costume I had ever seen. Those jetpack-fueled tales pushed me back into the world of comic books and made me feel like a kid again. I used to think all I wanted in life was a lightsaber. Thanks to the Rocketeer, I realized what I really needed was a jetpack. You get more girls with a jetpack.

Dave Stevens' gorgeous artwork paired with his over-the-top pulpy storylines is seriously the stuff dreams are made of. It doesn't get any better than this.. To this day, I still consider Dave Stevens the greatest comic book artist who ever lived. It breaks my heart knowing that I'll never be able to tell him that myself.

So, I'm thankful for the Rocketeer. I'm thankful for high-flying, nazi-punching adventures and sexy, starlet girlfriends. I'm thankful for IDW continuing Stevens' work in the in their recent anthologies and mini-series. I'm thankful for jetpacks.